Terra Incognita
by hollyandthediamonds
Summary: (A rewrite of Quintessential State of Dreaming) It hurt too much to remember him, everything about him caused more misery. So when the opportunity to erase every memory I had of him presented itself, my first impulse was to take the offer. But actions driven by impulse often lead to regret... and the excursion to recall my memories could have put me on the brink of insanity.


"-_Meet me in Marunouchi_."

The wind picked up around me, my hair blinding me, taking me back into the darkness as the ground collapsed beneath me in the dreaming state. There was no certainty of my survival, whether or not when I would awake that I would be sane or just a lump of flesh lying in a hospital bed.

It occurred to me that neither of us had asked ourselves if it was worth it. Was this worth my sanity, my life? Should I have asked myself before the first procedure I had put myself through?

How many times could you tamper with the human brain before it decides to malfunction and shut down?

The questions did not matter to me then. If I was a vegetable, so be it. At least he would be here, in my dreams. They had seemed real enough to me anyway.

The only thing I was certain of was that—regardless of whether they would lose their meaning, those words would never-could never be removed from my mind.

"…_ichounuraM ni em teeM_—"

* * *

**OUTRO/INTRO  
****I turn around, there`s those eyes again.**  
**Turn around, fake indifference and I watch their cold, dark silhouettes disappear.**

* * *

JILLIAN;

I laid in bed realizing that it was actually my alarm that had been buzzing, and not my bedroom falling to shambles around me. I looked across the vast valley of white that was my duvet cover and longed to hit the "snooze" button. Instead, I inhaled a deep breath before groaning and reaching over to the metallic box sitting on my bedside table, fumbling for the incredibly specific "off" button.

Once this was accomplished and silence once again filled my bedroom, I sunk back into my pillows while releasing a heavy sigh. I told myself that I needed to get up as I continued to laid lay in bed, in the peaceful silence, soaking up the early morning light streaming through the window.

Jillian, if you don`t get up, you`re going to pay the consequences.

The consequences being that I would look like a piece of trash at not just my usual daily college classes, but my job at the University as well. I taught violin and dance to ages 6-10 at the University. I`d found that children could be far more cruel verbally than any adults I`d encountered. These kids had no shame in pointing out a bad hair day, or if you had a shiny new pimple that hadn`t been there the night before.

Forcing my eyes open, I let out a defeated groan. I had to get up. I had to go to school, and even worse-I had to go to my theory class. I probably would have preferred being crucified by a studio filled with children than endure a fifty minute lecture on how to construct a basic chorale. Suicide, though morally wrong, seemed like the only answer to any of my problems lately.

However, because I didn`t have the time or energy to successfully attempt to kill myself, so I found my fix in a tiny, white bottle of Celexa that had been currently sitting on my bathroom counter. And it was calling my name.

I retracted my outstretched hand from the bedside table, hearing an increasingly familiar clacking sound as my fingers slide from the polished wood. I looked down at my left hand as I used it alongside my right to push myself up and out from under the covers.

As I rose from the safety of my down comforter and fort of feather pillows, I noticed the sunlight catching in the diamond on my ring finger, reflecting glints of rainbow light onto the walls, a private, morning disco.

The ring had been given to me by the boy I had been seeing for a few months. When most women were engaged, the ring was supposed to symbolize an eternity of happiness. Without loneliness; someone to share their journey through life with. When I looked down at the fat rock sitting on my finger… I couldn`t help but feel confused and alone.

Confused because I wasn`t exactly sure if this was what I had wanted.

Alone because though my fiancée was kind hearted and affectionate, I refused to let him know the kind of horrible person I was capable of being.

I looked over at the clock on the side of my bed. I had been sitting, staring at my engagement ring for seven minutes.

Eight minutes.

I would show up to the 9 AM theory lecture with wet hair if I didn`t get my ass into gear. The kids would make fun of me.

My feet padded across the carpet, carrying me to the door on the left of my bedside table—the bathroom that connected my room to my sister`s.

I flipped the switch and as soon as the light illuminated the tiles, I noticed the thick, yellow towel that laid on the floor in the corner between Elise`s bedroom door and the towel closet adjacent to it. It lay, crumpled and smudged with eyeliner and mascara on the floor. I reached down to find it still damp.

"Elise," Her name came from my lips in a disdained tone, as if I could cry at the sight of another soiled towel. The third time this week.

I dumped the towel in the hamper that was located inside the linen closet before slamming the closet door behind it in frustration. The third time that week! How many times had I told her to quit leaving her things lying around on the floor? She was in High school for crying out loud.

My eyes lingered on Elise`s door, reality sinking in as I thought about how she would be off to a University in a couple years. I didn`t know how I would get by living without my younger sister looking out for me. The thought of being alone with my fiancée, living with him and only him, terrified me.

No one could take care of me like my little sister could. Certainly not our mother or father.

I turned my gaze to the linen closet once more, thinking about how the stains on the towel would only set in if I let it sit in the hamper until I would get home that evening. I ripped the door open hard enough that if it would have fallen off its hinges, I wouldn`t have been all too surprised.

I threw the towels into the washing machine with much more effort that was needed, making sure to douse the offending towel with stain remover before slamming the lid of the machine closed.

"You`re going to break something one of these days, and it`s going to cost Dad an arm and a leg to replace the washing machine." I heard my sister rummage through the cabinets in the kitchen for her favorite coffee mug, which I always put in the same place every day and she had yet to figure out where that was.

We`d lived in the apartment for twelve years.

"Maybe if someone wouldn`t leave their laundry around all the time with mascara smudges on them… It`s called makeup remover, Ellie, and it is going to save us a fortune in towels… if you ever decide to use it."

"It smells funny."

"It`s Bi-Facil and it is a _luxury_ makeup remover. It smells nice and please, dear God, please start using it before another towel has to be sacrificed due to your carelessness."

"Uh huh," Was her only reply as she opened the same cabinet I had placed her favorite mugs in for years, reaching up and grabbing a red holiday mug.

"Did you take your medicine this morning?" She finally spoke up as I sat down at the kitchen island across from her.

My senses were immediately burning with rage at her words. Elise knew damn well that I liked to keep a clean house and that had nothing to do with my disorder.

"What the fuck does that have to do with anything?" I hissed, tensing up as I watched Elise stir her coffee as if she didn`t know that my temper was boiling over like a pot on a stove.

"It has to do with everything, Jill," She answered as if she was reciting the weather forecast, as if my hostile behavior was a daily occurrence.

Though if we were being completely honest, which I never would admit to this out loud—my obsessive compulsive cleaning habits were unnecessary in such extremes, but a damp towel was enough to ruin my entire day. Especially an argument over a damp towel.

"All you had to do was hang it up, Elise. Just quit being a slob."

She didn`t respond, which is usually how she handled these spats that would occur every so often. I was still burning with anger, her silence fueling me like gasoline.

"You aren`t saying anything because you know I`m right." I continued, "Just hang up the towel."

"Okay." She said, as if I`d asked her if it would be okay to buy her dinner later.

"Elise, just hang the fucking towel up!" My voice was louder, but Elise only sipped at her coffee as she stared out the large window overlooking the town, the morning Tokyo skyline in the distance.

"Okay."

"Elise!"

* * *

"Arriving at Tokyo University. Next stop: Marunouchi District."

A huge part of my High school self wanted to ditch school and let the train whirl me away to the shopping district just beyond the city. Of course, I only felt comfortable in the shopping district when Elise was with me. I didn`t like to go places alone, especially crowded places in which I wasn`t familiar.

For someone that often exuded self confidence, I was very cautious as I walked through the University halls. The Fine Arts building was the only place that I felt somewhat safe, as if nothing could touch me inside of its walls. No judgment was passed; everyone was trying to better themselves and their craft.

It was safe there, at least it had been.

"What is that man doing?"

I turned from the pose I had been keeping while instructing my first year ballet students. I looked like a fool, my arms above my head as I introduced choreography from the _Aladdin _medley we`d been working on. It did not surprise me one bit to see an observer on the other side of the glass studio doors.

The young man stood, leaned up against the wall with his arms folded neatly across his chest. Like the rest of his appearance, everything appeared to be well groomed aside from his unruly dark hair.

"He`s been standing there for a while." Another one of my girls stopped to stare at him, leaving me no choice but to excuse myself from the group.

"Practice what I showed you," I called over my shoulder as the girls watched me take long, quick strides across the studio. One by one, they began to repeat the dance moves completely out of sync with one another. I smiled to myself, finding the girls amusing when they were left to dance on their own. The chaos and disorganization that was my choreography made me chortle even as I reached out and pulled he door open to speak to our one man audience.

"Can I help you with something?" I spoke in almost too light hearted of a tone. I looked up into a pair of chestnut eyes. I noticed the long eyelashes the boy possessed, among other feminine features. My first reaction, as I had drawn closer to him was that he was strangely attractive, despite his …unusual features.

I froze upon looking into those eyes. Something inside of me was struck, numbing my ears to the words coming from his face. I was left but to do nothing but watch two perfect lips

And then I remembered that he was not the only man I`d ever known to have that affect on me, and that my wedding ring was still sitting on my finger.

"Very funny," His voice was smooth, running out of his mouth like honey. His tone was hypnotic, as if he was speaking a different language, an accent I couldn`t place,

"Do we still have plans for this evening? I know I`m earlier than expected…"

He was so familiar to me, but everything seemed so foreign. I felt like I could feel what he was feeling, read his body language but I couldn`t understand the words.

I only stared more as his mouth formed syllables I could not hear.

"…Jillian?" He asked, brow furrowing when he realized I could do nothing but stare from his lips to his unnaturally long eyelashes, they dusted the tops of his cheeks as he looked down at me with …sincere concern.

When I saw the uneasy look on his face, something sparked inside of me. I felt the way I had that morning, when I`d found Elise`s towel on the bathroom floor. The feeling overwhelmed me as this boy continued to stare as if I was losing my mind, like I should have known who he was and what he was talking about.

"I`m sorry, I think you`re mistaking me…" I began to say, but knew there was no possibility of another Jillian in all of Tokyo that wasn`t a complete foreigner—And this boy was purely Japanese bred. His head tilted to the side, an eyebrow raising while the other furrowed with confusion. Chestnut eyes narrowed under black lashes, his lips parting slightly as he stared down at me with what seemed like suspicion. As if I had done something wrong just by not recognizing him.

Now, I was certain that I had convinced myself that I had never seen this boy before in all of my life. However, within that pause in the awkward conversation—I inhaled, and let his scent light my senses on fire. I had to catch myself before I fell forward, burying my nose into his sweater. The faintest, lightest smell of patchouli and gourmand filled my nostrils, the base notes supporting an evergreen pine. And his shampoo, something floral like blossoms, or maybe—

I caught myself staring eye level at the collar of the heather grey crew neck, prominent collar bones poking out just above the scoop of the neck, revealing his olive toned skin. I really had been about to bury my face into that sweater out of what I would have wanted to call instinct. It didn`t seem typical of my instincts to nuzzle a random stranger.

"Are you not feeling well?" He asked next, and I lifted my eyes back to his before completely pulling myself from my trance.

"I feel fine, I`m sorry, I just think you`re mistaking me for someone else." And with that, I stepped back and let the door swing shut as I backed away from the glass separating us, our confusion mirroring each other as we continued to step backwards.

He narrowed his eyes again before pivoting, his stare lingering as long as it could before he had to turn the corner of the doorway, disappearing from sight. I stood, staring through the glass at a ghost for a few quiet moments before the background noise of my class slowly reached my ears, as if someone had turned the volume up slowly from mute.

Something about that encounter, it didn`t sit right with me. I felt like I had been drug out from under the loft roof in which I had been hiding. I felt like something I had wanted nothing to do with was lurking just beyond the walls of the University. It hadn`t been the first time something similarly strange had happened to me. There had been several meetings such as this with others before, people at the convenient store and salons…

I decided that I would have Daisuke drive me home that evening.

* * *

ELISE;

"I have some bad news."

I looked across the table at the young ruler of the Spirit World. He fidgeted in the booth opposite as me, his food going untouched. This was unusual for Koenma, seeing as he was a bottomless pit any other day, regardless of what was troubling him. I watched him poke at the food with his chopsticks, idly pushing his food around on his plate. He was trying to figure out how to word the bad news in a way that would least upset me, but the suspense was much more upsetting to the stomach that what was to come.

"Just spit it out already, Kid," He jumped at my tone of voice, as if he was even more afraid to tell me after realizing my sour mood. I knew well enough that when Koenma had bad news it was truly something awful, and I wanted fix whatever he`d done wrong before it got out of hand.

Especially since he had taken his father`s place in the afterlife.

"This morning it was brought to my attention that. Er, well,"

"Well?" I pressed, crossing my arms across my chest, trying to maintain the level of my voice to avoid tables around us from hearing. The man sitting across from me looked more boyish than his twenty-seven year old façade should have allowed as he sucked in one cheek, taking a deep breath before unloading the information onto me.

"…Some of Jillian`s files have gone missing."

My head quirked to the side as I reached for the coffee cup in front of me, lifting it gingerly to my lips.

"What does that mean?" I asked before taking a slow sip of the dark roast coffee. Koenma eased a little as he was deceived by my calm response to the news.

"Specifically the files containing all of the details of her procedure."

At these words, Koenma found himself covered with the backwashed coffee I had spit out from shock. I beat my fist down and onto the table before growling low, having attracted the attention of several others in the diner.

"He wouldn`t dare." I hissed, more of a question than a threat; but definitely still a threat. Anyone that fooled around with the incredibly fragile emotional state of my "older" sister would be dealt with immediately. I wasn`t afraid to terminate them whether human or demon. I had made it my business for the past seventeen years of my life to watch over Jillian and I had considered myself her personal guardian. Whenever she made a mess, I would be there to clean it up.

But now there was a parasite lurking in the shadows, determined to unravel all of the hard work I had put into cleaning up the last mess Jillian created.

And I would be damned if I was going to let anyone make a fool out of my sister again.

"We don`t have proof that it was him-"  
"Are you—Koenma," My tone became more gritty as I continued to speak, "Koenma you and I both know that it was him. Who else would want answers?"

"It could have been any of them. Kuwabara was close to her, Yusuke and—"

"Do you hear yourself right now?!" My voice raised a few decibels, more heads turning back in our direction. I leaned back into the booth, pretending to seem calm and waiting for the attention among the crowd to divide elsewhere before going back to my low hiss,

"Yeah, Kuwabara broke into Reikai`s confidential files because he thought it`d be a good ass time. You think Yusuke would want to listen to a tape of Jillian droning on for hours about that moron?"

"Elise, I`m just trying to make a point that—"

"You really think Yusuke Urameshi would come back after all this time just to check up on Jillian? Did George drop you on your soft, infant skull?"

I stopped for air, noticing that his gaze had turned icy. I grimaced in return, having two of the softest brown eyes I`d ever seen put me in my place without words needing to be said. I sunk as far back into the cushion of the booth as I crumbled his stare, feeling like a cornered animal.

"You aren`t going anywhere near Kurama until we`re certain of who touched that file. That`s an order." He waited until I tentatively lifted my eyes back to his before adding on,

"Is that clear, Ume?"

And begrudgingly, I answered with,

"Crystal."

* * *

"Elise, does it smell strange in here?"

Jillian walked into the living room, stepping directly in front of my view of the television show I was currently devoted to. I had only recently had time to start watching the idiot box again, and I would admit to having missed the simple pleasure greatly. So when Jillian always found the opportunity to nag me about something during the same hour in which I had some time to relax, I would become irritated.

"No, Jill." I answered, reaching for the remote to turn the volume up as to drown her out. I loved my sister very much, but she knew better that to bother me.

"Ellie, I saw the most handsome man today." She changed the subject, rounding the sofa and sinking into it as if she had been exhausted from playing music and dancing all day. Some of us had actual classes we went to where we were forced to learn something and play sports and…

I needed to get the hell out of High School.

"Can it wait?" I asked, my voice rigid with irritation. Jillian`s brow furrowed as she looked from me to the screen, and then scoffed,

"Ew is this the Japanese dub? Way to stay true to your roots, kiddo." She grabbed the remote, muting the popular, American program and I let out an exasperated sigh as I leaned back into the couch to endure the tales of Jillian and her frivolous endeavors.

What she didn`t realize was that my roots were not American like hers, though we both looked it on the outside. There were a few complications on my part.

We`ll get to that later.

"Mulder and Scully can wait, Elise today I…" Her eyes drifted to the coffee table as a small smile appeared on her face.,

"This man was watching me when I was teaching my first year class, and he was so familiar for some reason. I mean, he didn`t look familiar, but he smelled so good, I think that maybe his cologne or something… I must have smelled it before in a store somewhere. "

"This is what you muted my program for."

"Shh, Anyway, he was completely convinced that he knew who I was and he acted almost offended that I didn`t recognize him. He looked so sad.."

It had to have been him. He would have the nerve to steal the girl`s files and then feign completely innocent. He was doing it on purpose to mess with me.

I`d kill him.

"What did he look like?"

"He was so handsome…"

"Okay, but what did he look like?" I asked again, ignoring her previous comment which seemed to be all that mattered to her. Ever since Jillian had gotten engaged, she seemed to be undergoing a state of "last call" with her final stage of being single.

Jillian sat up straight, her bottom resting on the edge of the couch cushion as her hands floated to her scalp, mimicking style of the boy`s hair. An invisible outline encases Jillian`s head as her hands scooped to where the boy`s fringe cast over his forehead, tapering down to the sides of his face into all too familiar forelocks. She then went around to the back of her head and outlined the cowlick of his hair.

"He had long hair, dark and his eyes were wide with long lashes. His brows were almost better kept than mine…"

"Was he tall?"

"Taller than me, …tall for a Japanese man, I suppose. I came up to his collar bones."

"That`s an oddly precise point." I noted, blowing a strand of white blonde hair out of my face, throwing in the towel on trying to figure out the currently muted episode of _X Files_. It wouldn`t kill me to not find out what kind mystery was to be solved in the episode. I had bigger things to deal with.

"They were very prominent…" She pointed out as she leaned back into her seat,

"And his jawline too. His mouth was the perfect size on his face, you know how I hate when people don`t have the right face to mouth ratio."

"Mhmm," I answered, letting my eyelids fall forward.

"Anyway, maybe it`s just me. I`ve been thinking about that fragrance all day. I guess I just remember it from somewhere."

"What did it smell like?" I didn`t really care to know. I knew as soon as she described his appearance who this man was, and why she seemed to have never met him before. I didn`t need any more details.

"He smelled like…" She shook her head, laughing to herself for a moment. At least Jillian was lighthearted now that she couldn`t remember the past. This was what we had hoped for her, a fresh start.

"Do you remember when mom knocked her bottle of Miss Dior off of the dresser when she was cleaning and it soaked the wood floorboards with perfume?"

I grimaced at the memory. The whole house smelled like Miss Dior for months.

"Yeah,"

"Well, after it eventually faded and all you could smell were the base notes and all of the strawberry smell was gone from it… the patchouli and the wood from the floor smelled so good. That was what he smelled like."

I let her words turn over in my head. She was associating the smell of this man with the smell of home. Not only home, but our home before she was removed from her mother. Our mother.

Interested now, I rose to my feet to see for myself what it smelled like. My feet padded across the floor of the loft, Jillian calling after me in curiosity. I heard her footsteps echoing behind mine as I pushed the door to her room open, revealing her perfectly tidied bedroom.

The overpowering smell of the buttercream scented candle hit my nostrils, overpowering any other scent that I could sniff out. At the same time, I couldn`t feel any energy, familiar or unfamiliar. Underneath the buttercream cloud I could smell the faint notes of Jillian`s perfume.

"I don`t smell anything out of the ordinary." I walked around the room, looking for any physical signs that something was wrong, but there was not a single item out of place. But then again, would the famous thief really be so oblivious to leaving the room the way he found it.

And then my attention turned to the closet; a perfect hiding spot. I nearly mowed the door down to small room connected to Jillian`s walk in closet. I stopped short, flipping the light switch and illuminating Jillian`s refurbished rendition of our father`s old office.

There was nothing off in either rooms, and nowhere else that would make sense for him to be hiding.

"Elise, it`s just in my head. Don`t worry about it." She yawned loudly as she slipped into her pajamas, collapsing onto the bed.

"I could fall asleep right now, those little kids wear me out." She groaned, collapsing into the pillows, giving up completely on the rest of her evening routine.

My eyes wandered to the bathroom door, wondering if she`d taken her medicine yet for the evening. Even if she`d skipped a pill, she would be alright.

"Let me know if it starts to smell weird in here again." I made sure to speak sternly as I stood in the doorway, fingers lingering on the light switch.

"Mmm." She hummed, burying herself deeper into the pillows, her back to me.

"Jillian, did you hear me?" I asked, louder. And in return, Jillian snarled into the pillow her annoyed response,

"Good night!"

I lifted my eyes to the ceiling of her room, flipping the lights off and hearing the ending credits of the show I`d been watching as I shut the door behind me.

My back to her closed door, I glanced warily around the loft. I stepped over to the windows, glaring into the darkness. I reached out and twisted the rod, turning the blinds closed.

Yet with the entire loft closed off and secured, I still felt as if I was being watched. My lip curled into a sneer as I clicked the television set off and dimmed the living room, trying to pick through all of the people and apparitions I had pissed off that would be seeking revenge on me through my sister.

But this had Kurama`s name written all over it, and there was no way I could convince myself otherwise.

I checked the door once more, testing the handle, jiggling it with a little more force than needed. No matter how strong the knob was, I knew it wouldn`t be able to hold the demon back if he really wanted to get in. He was, after all, capable of picking the lock within a half second.

_Just leave her alone,_ I thought, staring the door up and down as if Kurama stood on the other side of it,

_She`s happy now. _


End file.
